


comfort zone

by envysparkler



Series: Shifters [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shifters, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Non-Sexual Submission, Pack Dynamics, Whump, all of the cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27386392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/envysparkler/pseuds/envysparkler
Summary: Jason attempts to make amends.(Jason knew he was terrifying.  And he was proud of it.  Until it came to his pack.)
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Shifters [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995952
Comments: 87
Kudos: 1072





	comfort zone

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was spawned by me wondering how Jason could ever convince Tim was he wasn't going to hurt him again.

Jason knew he was terrifying.

The Lazarus Pit had healed a whole host of damage that he’d assumed would never be permanently corrected, and the year of training with the League of Assassin had turned that height, that bulk, that muscle into a deadly weapon. He’d dressed to intimidate as the Red Hood, and the danger carried over into his wolf form.

Canids may have been the most common shifter form in North America, but that didn’t change the fact that wolves were apex predators, and even the ones on the smaller end of the spectrum had the potential to be intimidating. He’d known, growing up, that they were dangerous – a lesson only reinforced when he became Robin – and at three feet tall, nearly two hundred pounds, and darker than night, he knew full well the reaction he provoked.

And he was proud of it. Until it came to his pack.

Alfred didn’t say anything. Merely gave Jason a look whenever he attempted to do with paws what should’ve been done with hands, gave head pats in passing, and altogether, showed no reaction whenever he entered a room to find it occupied by a large wolf.

Bruce didn’t say anything. Jason was half-convinced that the man didn’t know what fear was, but Bruce was the leader of the Wayne pack. All he had to do was command, and Jason would be forced to obey. He was in no danger from Jason, and he knew it.

Dick flinched every time he caught sight of Jason unexpectedly. Well, not _flinched_ , exactly, but there was a half-second of stillness where it was clear that Dick was suppressing his first reaction to a wolf looming out of the shadows. And Jason understood that Dick had every reason to be wary – after Zucco and what he had done to Dick’s old pack, after a sandy fox with only half a face, after a gigantic silver artic wolf with one ice blue eye. It wasn’t personal.

With Tim, it most definitely was personal. The kid nearly squeaked in terror every time he caught sight of the wolf, and Jason couldn’t even blame him. He remembered the anger, the hurt, the desire to make the Replacement pay, the fury at the kid feigning surrender as if that would get him out of the fight, the green haze as his rage came up with the perfect target –

The realization, his teeth millimeters away from breaking skin, that the kid’s distress was so overwhelming because he could _feel_ it, the calls for help, the terror searing through the pack bond he thought he’d lost when he died.

The realization that he had a kid’s throat in his jaws, that he’d become exactly what he spent his entire childhood terrified of, had slammed into him so hard it had broken through the green haze and left Jason abruptly directionless.

He wanted to say that he hated Bruce. That the man hadn’t avenged him, that the man hadn’t _cared_ , that his stupid rule was poisoning the city –

_“You’re my son, and I’m not going to hurt you.”_

But he couldn’t even justify that to himself anymore. It left him at the Manor like he’d slunk back home in disgrace, and Jason couldn’t get ahold of the whirling thoughts inside his head without making himself sick.

Being the wolf was easier. Being the wolf meant he didn’t need to answer questions. Being the wolf meant he could curl around Bruce and pretend like he’d never left home, never _died_.

Being the wolf meant watching both his brothers watch him in fear.

* * *

Jason didn’t know _why_ Dick was trying to play the martyr all the goddamn time, he only knew he hated it.

He stared down at the owl nuzzling into his paw like Jason couldn’t hear his too-fast heartbeat or the quiet, suppressed jolt of fear. Dick’s wings twitched every few seconds, even though Jason had made an effort to stay perfectly still. He resisted the urge to growl, and shifted back.

Dick stared at him, tilting his head quizzically, but hopped into Jason’s offered hand and accepted Jason’s light scratching under his wings.

“You’re an idiot,” Jason informed him as he slumped back. It was itching at him again – being human meant unsafe, meant unprotected, the wolf had claws and teeth but all it would take was one bite to send Jason into the space where he was forced to obey – but he controlled it, depositing Dick on the couch as he crossed his arms.

He didn’t know which of the implications horrified him more – that Dick thought he was so threatening he needed to shift to an owl before coming near Jason, or that Dick thought that the only way Jason could feel safe was if he held the reins of power in every situation.

Jason had way too many memories of fucked-up power dynamics to even consider going down that route, and he was starting to get pissed that everyone kept treating him like he was some fragile flower that would go to pieces the moment he felt threatened.

Jason gave Dick a narrow-eyed glare.

“You don’t need to sprout feathers every time you want a hug.”

Dick hooted softly in surprise and blurred, and before Jason had the chance to regret his words, his big brother had a mischievous smile on his face as he practically tackled Jason to the couch.

Jason snarled, resisted the urge to shift back into the wolf, and only elbowed Dick _once_ in a stunning display of self-control as he suffered through one of the man’s octopus hugs.

Surprisingly, Dick let up before the hug got too suffocating, easing back to his side of the couch with a soft, sad smile. “I’m glad you’re back, Little Wing,” he said quietly.

_Me too_ , Jason didn’t say. _I called for help and you never came_ , he didn’t say. _Stop sending yourself into panic attacks to be near me_ , he didn’t say.

“Keep showing up as an owl, and one of these days I’m going to accidentally step on you,” Jason grumbled.

* * *

Jason took a couple of deep breaths before he ducked into the library. Tim looked up from the book he was reading and fidgeted in place, but didn’t move. Jason exhaled slowly.

He would definitely prefer not to do this, but the kid nearly had a breakdown at the thought of Jason leaving, and there weren’t a whole lot of options on the table. Dick had been easier – Dick was only scared of the wolf, and Jason knew that even with a year of League training under his belt, the original Robin was the better fighter.

But Tim was scared of _him_ , wolf or not, and with good reason. Some wing scratches and a hug wasn’t going to be enough.

Jason sank into the side of the couch next to the armchair Tim was in, which got a stronger reaction. Tim flinched back, stilled, and slowly lifted his gaze to meet Jason’s.

“Do you have a moment?” Jason asked. He’d planned this carefully – Alfred was busy making lunch, Dick was out, and Bruce was in the Cave – but it all hinged on the kid not running for the door.

Tim slowly closed the book, going tense and still, and regarded Jason with his full attention.

Jason opened his mouth – start off with an apology, say the right words, explain – but dread was swirling through the air, choking him, and he just wanted to get it over with so he didn’t feel the churning in his stomach or the low, rising pulse of terror or the growing headache as he tried not to think about it because if he thought about it, he would never go through with it.

He just needed it to be over.

Jason grabbed Tim’s hand and nearly yanked him off the armchair as he pulled, leaning forward and bowing his head and – Tim shouted something Jason didn’t hear – pressing Tim’s hand to the back of his neck and forcing his fingers to squeeze.

_Surrender_ his instincts screamed, and he automatically fought it, terror choking up inside of him as he went completely limp.

He braced for a hard impact with the floor but something caught his shoulders, the fingers on the back of his neck slipping to the front of his throat before catching in his collar – Jason choked, waiting for the bite because there was always a bite, because those assholes wanted to force him to submit, to obey, to curl up glassy-eyed and vacant and listen to the commands shouted in his ear –

“– the _hell_ , Jason, why did you –”

He was laid gently against the floor and he shivered, he could barely make his fingers twitch, some distant part of his mind reminded him that he’d asked for this, that he’d planned to be vulnerable, to be helpless, this was all his own fault –

“– going to go get Dick –”

Jason let out a broken sob of terror before he even realized what he was doing. No, he’d made sure that no one was going to interrupt them, he didn’t want anyone to see him like this, _no_ –

The footsteps stilled, before coming back. “Okay, Jason, I won’t get Dick, I promise,” Tim said quietly and Jason squeezed his eyes shut – he could feel the water dripping off his face and he could choke down the panic and smother it so that the pack didn’t know, but he couldn’t stop shaking, waiting for the bite he knew was coming –

A quiet, soft trill and Jason slowly cracked his eyes open. Black feathers fluttered in front of him and something sharp brushed the crown of his head as his hair was tugged none-too-gently. The dull pain grounded him as Tim continued his inexpert preening, forcing Jason back to the present.

He still couldn’t move, weights around his wrists and ankles, terror caught in his throat, but the wings left soft, feathery touches against his face and the dread slowly uncoiled from his heart.

A particularly hard yank tore a few hairs from his skull and Jason hissed, “Ow.”

The adolescent hawk stepped back, regarded Jason with blue eyes and reached forward to nip at Jason’s nose. He winced.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, dragging the words out, “I didn’t mean to – I didn’t want you to be scared of me.”

  
The hawk hopped closer and tucked itself into the small space between Jason’s chin and chest, he could feel its fluttering heartbeat every time he swallowed.

“I’m sorry for biting you,” Jason said softly, “I just – I wanted to even the scales.”

The hawk straightened out of its crouch and pecked his hand. Hard. _You asshole_ was pretty clearly implied in his disgruntled expression.

Jason felt his lips twitch. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, slowly dragging a hand up – he felt like he was moving through molasses – and raising a finger to brush against Tim’s wings. The hawk went very still, and Jason froze.

And then he shifted closer to Jason and let him resume his soft grooming, letting out a quiet, content trill as Jason’s fingers brushed soft feathers.

* * *

Bruce stepped into the library and paused.

Jason was curled up asleep on the rug, like he usually was, only he wasn’t a wolf. Even stranger, a hawk was tucked into his side, snuggled into Jason’s shirt on one side and an owl on the other. There was a tea tray set on the side table, and a silver foxhound pressed against Jason’s feet, almost like he was standing guard.

Bruce didn’t resist the urge to take a quick photo before he shifted, winging over to land on Jason’s arm, clutching his shirt with his claws and burrowing in so that the edges of Tim and Dick’s wings brushed against his head.

_Pack_ , his mind murmured happily as he settled in for a nap.


End file.
